


Bad Misty

by ThusSpokeRaven



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Caning, Computer Programming, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Light BDSM, One Shot, Smut, Very AU, vr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 17:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17871977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThusSpokeRaven/pseuds/ThusSpokeRaven
Summary: Misty tours the outpost.





	Bad Misty

* * *

* * *

 

 

Misty looked around.  The light was dim and strangled.  There were odd angles in every direction.  This was definitely not a Sunshine Girl camp.  She ran her fingers over the various textures and smiled.  The oppressiveness, the scent of a shut in environment, the cool feel of the various building materials were an almost physical weight.  

 

“Greetings.  I am Wilhelmina Venable.  You may call me Ms. Venable.”

 

The blonde turned.  A redhead stood behind her, dressed in a Victorian gown in purple.  Her hands in lace half gloves folded precisely over the head of a cane.  There was a coolness that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

 

Stepping in close, in her curiosity, Misty looked the woman over closely.  She was likewise examined though the stiff woman only moved her eyes.

 

“Ms. Venable,” she purred.  “You have been workin’ very hard.”

 

“In the time of the Apocalypse, I am responsible for the whole world.” Ms. Venable responded smartly.

 

The blonde pulled off her shirt.  “I believe you are needin’ to be a little irresponsible for a bit.”

 

Ms.  Venable’s brow rose.  “I must shepherd this Outpost.  Time is hardly on our side.”

 

Misty’s remaining clothes fell away.  She stretched to grasp a slim pipe overhead.  “Time is never on our side Ms. Venable.”

 

The woman in purple walked around Misty.  Her fingers slid over hip and stomach before sliding over Misty’s breast.  The blonde hummed as the lace slid and snagged, slid and snagged over her nipple.  Venable pinched the nipple.

 

“Feels so good.  It’s unbelievable.” Misty’s eyes slid closed.  She moaned as her other nipple was pinched. She shivered as nails slid down her center line.  A hand pressed into her mound. “Oh Ms. Venable,” she whispered.

 

Venable used the head of the cane to lift Misty’s chin.  “You are in my world. You will live or die by my rules.”

 

Misty looked Venable in the eyes.  “What are the rules?”

 

“You will not touch me.  If I tell you to do something, you will not hesitate. If i believe you need to be punished, you will be.”

 

Misty shivered.  “Yes, Ms. Venable.”  The woman before her was stern and the god of her realm and it was apparent in every aspect of her stance.

 

Ms. Venable slid the head of the cane from Misty’s chin, down her throat, stomach, leg.  The head of the cane pressed her legs apart. Misty adjusted her grip above her head prepared should her knees turn to jello.  From the possessive look in Ms. Venable’s eye, it was just a matter of time. The cane head traveled up Misty’s thigh and pressed upward driving Misty almost to her toes.

 

Gasping, Misty felt her knuckles going white with her grip.  She breathed raggedly as the cane head dragged back and forth over her clit.  Ms. Venable stepped forward, the lace of the gloves rubbing against the blonde’s clit as the redhead sank fingers into the naked woman.

 

“Throwing your clothes about.  Wet at the touch of my cane. A slut.” the redhead judged.

 

“Punish me Ms. Venable,” Misty urged breathlessly.  She groaned as Venable’s fingers wove into her hair.

 

“Come with me,” Venable said dispassionately.

 

Misty soon found herself in a library braced against a chair.  A radio of sorts played The Carpenters as a group of people lounged nearby reading and chatting quietly amongst themselves.  Misty looked at Ms. Venable whose eyes traveled along her body. A finger slid over the curves of her back and over a buttock.  

 

“A quarter inch rattan would be an appropriate punishment.”  Venable tugged a bookshelf to reveal a number of canes and paddles.  She selected a cane and moved behind Misty. Without preamble, the cane whistled through the air to strike Misty.  It held the spot for a long moment afterward.

 

Misty rocked forward with a cry.  She bit a lip as she looked at the other people in the room who looked at her briefly and then went back to their pursuits.  She felt a cool hand in lace slide over the place the cane caught her. A second type of pain bloomed along the welt as the nerves came back to life.  She felt a strangled sound in her throat at the new pain.

 

Ms. Venable stepped back and delivered several blows more.  Each one drove Misty hard into the chair with a cry. She sucked in air as the blows ceased.  The cool air hit the reawakening nerves like fire. She panted against the chair.

 

Venable placed the rattan and her lace gloves on a nearby table.  Her nails moved over the tortured flesh of Misty’s ass. The heated skin threatened to burn her cool hand.  She slid her fingers between Misty’s legs. She tsked. Her hip pressed into the welts. Misty’s head came up with a strangled moan.  “So very wet. You are hardly taking this punishment seriously are you?” she said firmly. Her fingers slid deep eliciting a cry. “You can hardly hold position for being such a slut.”

 

Ms. Venable’s fingers curled into Misty’s hair as her coarse cloth skirt rubbed the blonde’s welts.  Her other hand slid forward to lightly pinch Misty’s clit, causing the blonde to rock hard. Her voice rose in an almost scream as the fingers returned to sink in.

 

“This is my world.  What does that make you?” Ms. Venable asked sternly.  Her fingers moved hard and fast for a moment before holding deep in the blonde.

 

Misty moved restlessly trying to get Ms. Venable to move in her.  Her forehead rubbed on the chair fabric in her frustration.

 

Venable raised a brow and began to withdraw.

 

“Yours Ms. Venable,”  Misty cried out. “It makes me yours.”

 

Venable rewarded Misty by sending her fingers back in, a fast hard rhythm demanding everything from the woman before her.  Even as pleasure was drawn out by her hand, the rough fabric on welts and the fingers in Misty’s hair sent jolts of pain that pushed the pleasure higher.  Misty rocked on Venable’s fingers, crying out the sensations that were swamping her like tidal waves. She came thanking Ms. Venable over and over.

 

Misty felt Ms. Venable withdraw to replace her rattan, and gripped the chair hard getting her breathing under control.

 

Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt raised her glass.  “Here, ladies and gentlemen is to being bad.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Misty slid the interface device known as the Crown off her head and let her quivering muscles relax in the interface couch.  When the interfaces first came out, she and her partner studied the art and science of creating the interactive environments.  They took up the little used genre of horror and created a chain of worlds in which users could experience their fears using all the senses through the interface and through the lens of imagination provided by Misty Day and Cordelia Goode, programmers extraordinaire.  

 

Misty had been wrapped up in finishing an extension to the Coven World program and Cordelia worked on Apocalypse.  They had barely seen each other in weeks and the New Orleans native decided it was time to see what her lover had been up to and boy was she glad she did.

 

Cordelia Goode came in from her own interface programming suite and pulled a rolling office chair next to Misty.  She gave a smile and ran her fingers over Misty’s thigh.

Misty cupped Cordelia’s cheek.  “Venable may be one of my favorites.”

 

Cordelia’s brows rose.  “That’s Ms. Venable to you.”

 

Misty sat up and drew Cordelia into a kiss.  “Maybe we can discuss my punishment,” she purred.

 

“Bad Misty,” Delia chided as she drew her partner out of the couch and off to their bedroom.


End file.
